Can't Remember
by Neo Lockheart
Summary: It's been 2 months since Sherlock's death, John isn't dealing with the loss very well, but Mycroft has a plan for the army doctor to get him back on his feet.
1. Chapter 1

_I can't remember, what happened?_

_I'm so confused, who am I?_

_Where am I?_

_Who am I?_

_Who am I?_

_Who…_

* * *

I thought to myself as I lay in bed staring at the ceiling blankly. I sat up and closed my eyes hoping that I could hear an explosion or an experiment in progress or a violin playing softly or horribly,

_Silence_

My stomach turns thinking of the brutal image of Sherlock, my best friend, dead on the bloody pavement. I rubbed my face with a shaky hand and got up from my bed, stepping out of the bedroom. I went down the flight of stairs and entered the main room. It seemed more empty and dull without the detective there. My eyes began to water but held back the tears and rushed to the bathroom. I hovered over the sink, turned on the water and splashed cold water on my face. I stared at myself in the mirror, the water dripping off of my chin, my eyes had dark rim underneath them, I haven't been sleeping properly, or at all_. 'How was Sherlock even able to do this'_ My skin was much paler than before, I don't go out much. I don't work at the hospital anymore, and Lestrade doesn't need a retired army doctor running around solving cases, well attempting to. Mrs. Hudson does all the shopping for me, so I just sit at home and watched the telly.

I grabbed the towel hanging off a towel rack and dried my face off. I let out a big sigh and put the used towel on the sink and headed for the bathroom door. I stood in the middle of the bathroom and glanced at the door that leads to Sherlock's room. I swallowed hard and turned on my heel and walked slowly to the other door. I stared at the door handle grabbing the cold door knob. I turned it slowly walked into the cluttered room, and walked around the room before sitting on the messy bed. I ran my hand on the surface of the blankets; remembering when I had to drag Sherlock to his bed on the_ Scandal in Belgravia_ case, with Irene Adler. I smiled at the memory of the drugged detective falling off his bed; I didn't notice that I was lying down on the bed, gripping at the messy white blankets. I breathed in the scent on the blanket smelling like Sherlock. I couldn't hold back the tears anymore and began to weep into the pile of blanket I held in my hands.

* * *

Tell me what you think please!

I am sorry if there was any errors, I asked my sisters to look at it a few months back and they never did.

Character are(obviously) not mine, I don't' know if they take off stories if you don't clarify that but just in case.


	2. Chapter 2

I woke up with a horrible pain on the side of my head and chest; I moved my arms around feeling around where he was laying making me familiar of where I was. _How did I get here?_ It was dark and it smelled horrible_, an ally?_ I breathed in; the cool winter air burned my lungs making me cough. I got up to my feet and looked at how I was dressed, a dark blue scarf was wrapped around my neck, a black long coat, and it seemed as if I was dressed for work I couldn't really see properly in the lack of proper light. _Was that where I was going, damn it I can't remember_. My head began to throb, I placed a hand on my head, and it felt wet. I walked to the nearest lamp post and saw blood on my hands; I began to realize that there was blood all over my clothes and on my face. _Is this my blood? What happened to me?_ I stepped out of the light hoping that no one saw me.

"Hey" A voice called out, I froze in my place _'Did he see me'_ fear spread throughout my entire body. _'Should I run'_ the footsteps came close….

_Run!_

My feet began to move by themselves running as fast as I could down the alley. The man shouted at me to what sounded like, wait and a name, it sounded familiar but I couldn't hear what he said properly. I stopped leaning against a wall to catch my breath but found it a struggle; my chest began to hurt again. I slid down to the floor with my knees to my chest trying to breathe properly. I pulled my coat closer to my chest trying to shield myself from the cold night winds. My breathing started to go back to it normal pace, I stood up checking if the man had followed him. I sat back down and rubbed my bloody hands on my coat. It didn't really help much since my coat was full of blood as well. A hand suddenly grabbed my shoulder, I gasped loudly and tried to push the hand off but it had a good grip on me.

"Oi, calm down!" The voice whispered loudly. A man about in his early 20's held a finger to his lips signaling me to be quiet. He pulled my arm helping me up to my feet; he took a step back and looked at my attire. _Did I know him? He seems to know me_. He laughed to himself.

"Got yourself in a pretty bloody mess aye mate?"

"It seems that I have yes" I agreed "Where am I?"

"You don't know where you at?"

"No I don't, that is why I am asking you."

The boy stared at me as if I was talking utter nonsense; He snorted and waved a hand signaling me to follow him.

"Guess he was right" He mumbled to himself.

_Who's 'he'?_


End file.
